Since 1830, Belgium brings together two peoples, united by the will of the great powers of the time to create a buffer state. Between Latin and Germanic cultures, it shows, according to Victor Hugo, "this tormented and bizarre taste resulting from the shock between North and South, Flanders and Spain”.
In exile myself, I felt the need to dwell on this.
Perhaps we can never come back home?
What is it that 'home'? The place of origin?
Or is it closer to what we are and what we know best?
We belong to the world that we make, not to the one from which we come.